For You, I Will
by The Inbetweener
Summary: With the Impending Doom hanging over their heads, Hermione and Ron have one night that changes the course of their lives. Inspired by Teddy Gieger's For You, I Will and The All-american Rejects' When the World Comes Down


Hermione sat and watched the silvery pink and orange fade into the horizon, smiling. Her long curls flowed over her shoulders and she sighed in contentment. She enjoyed watching the show, the stars dancing before her eyes, the wind singing softly in her ears. The leaves rustled and applauded the beautiful performance that nature had set on the stage before her. She loved these moments alone, sitting in the Weasley's vast garden when she could appreciate everything in peace. It was a warm June night, cool and breezy but hazy as well. The air smelled like fresh rain, just after a storm. The Earth had come alive around Hermione and she wanted to bottle the moment. It seemed that even with Voldemort on the prowl, there was hope still. For how could beauty such as this be destroyed completely? How could one want to destroy as wonderful a place as here and now, the fresh Earth, the vibrant sky? How could Voldemort not see what was right in front of him?

Hermione sighed once again, but this time because of where her thought had led her. It was melancholy to wonder at Lord Voldemort's actions and motives. Worse yet was it to wonder at the destruction of beauty. Hermione supposed that there was a certain beauty in destruction itself. Decrepitude held a luster and vanity all its own, but it was not half as vibrant and joyful as the scene being acted out as Hermione watched. How was it that destruction was always permanent and scarring, where as life was fleeting and short? All too soon would Hermione's life end. Even if she died at 667, it was not enough to please her. Hermione wanted to see the future she hoped to help build. Hermione wanted to see how her great-great grandchildren would grow up. Hermione wanted to see the world in all its eternal glory.

The brown eyed girl lifted her delicate hand to the thin gold chain draped around her neck. The pendant was a shiny cracked hour glass surrounded by orbitals of gold, the broken Time Turner she neglected to return to McGonagall. It was amazing to her how an object so tiny could have the power to tamper with time. She smiled to herself as she remembered the events that caused the Timer Turner to break. Helping Sirius escape a horrible fate in third year felt like ages ago to Hermione. She was a graduate of Hogwarts now and Sirius had died despite their rescue efforts. Time was a fickle thing, Hermione thought sadly. One moment could change the course of lives and no one could stop time to prevent an on-coming change.

"I wish time would stand still," she told the stars that continued to dance in the twilit sky.

"Now I never thought of you as a person of stillness," Hermione jumped slightly at the deep voice behind her. He sat down then and laid his hand on top of Hermione's delicate fingers. She smiled at the red head and shook her long brown locks in amusement. He never seemed to stop surprising her. And she could never get enough of him.

"Well, I think you should take a closer look and think a bit more. You never know what you might find, Ronald. The world is full of surprises," she answered easily. He grinned from ear to ear and took in the scene before him. They sat there and enjoyed each others company in a comfortable silence.

"But if you really think about it," Ron started quietly, shaking Hermione out of her reverie, "Without change life wouldn't be worth anything. We wouldn't last without some type of change." His words sank through Hermione's heart and she couldn't find an easy reply to his conviction. He was right by all accounts. If things never changed, if the world never got better or worse, if you lived and died without moving a centimeter towards something different, what would it be worth? What would life be worth? Hermione shook her brown mane of hair to shake out the thoughts. She didn't really want to think about the ups and downs of life at that point. She just wanted to enjoy the peace.

"Do you ever just want to run away? I don't know… just run? Something other than staying here?" Ron broke the silence. Hermione looked at him then and thought hard about what Ron was saying. Did she really want to just run? Again, it was hard for Hermione to reply. She didn't know what she wanted to do. She didn't know whether she wanted to hide, or to run, or to brave it out. She just didn't know. Ron's pale freckled face was darkened by thoughts. She studied him in silence, choosing to observe instead of reply. It was a new kind of Ron she was seeing, one that had grown up over the years. He was still a prat; they still bickered constantly and sometimes it felt like he picked a fight with her just because he liked to hear her yell. He was confusing to Hermione but she understood him if not his actions. They were best friends and sometimes Hermione felt as if it was more, but she never acted on the impulse. And she wondered, wondered if he felt that same connection she did, wondered if she would never get the chance to tell him.

"Ron? If we all just, I don't know, died tomorrow… would there be anything you would regret not doing?" she whispered timidly into the air. She watched him as his thoughts ran through his mind. Slowly, but surely, he nodded and looked her in the eyes. Hermione couldn't look away from him; his blue eyes held something that she hadn't ever really seen before. It was something that she only caught glimpses of, something that she always thought she imagined.

"Yes," was the simple answer Hermione received. He didn't explain. He didn't clarify his statement. He broke eye contact to turn and watch the day's dying light. Hermione raised her eyebrow but said nothing of his odd behavior. She too turned her attention to the tired and setting sun. It was then that a ladybug decided to land on Hermione's nose. Gently, Hermione removed the tiny creature from her nose and observed as it crawled along her soft fingertip. It was a pretty crimson red with exactly seven lucky black spots. Hermione quietly closed her eyes and made a wish that she held close to her heart. Then she opened her eyes and the lucky ladybug was gone. She watched it as it flew away from her freely and smiled. It was ironic in a way. The lucky bug that she made the wish on was living her wish, if only in those few moments. The ladybug was free, something Hermione seldom felt. Freedom did not often ring in Hermione's ears, but with a sigh she once again wished it did.

"Did you make a wish?" His voice startled her and she jumped as if she forgot he was there.

"Yes," she answered with a smile. "Come on." She ordered as she stood from the grass and held out a hand.

"What are we doing?" Ron asked as he took her hand and stood beside her. It was getting darker now and the moon shone brightly as the stars twinkled above their heads. Hermione just smiled and shook her head. She turned away from the house and faced the large open field that lay for miles behind the Weasley Burrow. And she ran. Without warning, Hermione shot towards the path hidden among the long blades of grass. Once he realized what she was doing, Ron was right beside her, keeping stride and smiling. It was a liberating feeling, the pair of them laughing and smiling as the wind rushed through their hair and rang through their ears. Hermione stepped up her pace and looked back briefly with mischief in her chocolate eyes.

"Oh, come on Ron!" she shouted through the thick and moving air, "You can do better than that! Keep up, will you?" He knew she was taunting him but he rose to the challenge and caught up to her easily. They laughed and soon both were fighting to catch their breath as the slowed to a stop. Ron collapsed on the grass first and let out a long winded sigh. Hermione laid back in the grass, settling herself comfortably next to Ron. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she snuggled a bit closer. Whispering a spell, she took out her wand and lit up their tiny area of field. It wasn't too dark out and they could still see the tiny orange lights that made the burrow glow with joy.

"Yes," Hermione stated, thinking back to their earlier conversation outside the Burrow.

"Yes?" Ron rolled over to his side and looked down at her with a curious brow. His red hair looked as if he ran his hand through it and didn't bother to fix it. Hermione giggled for a moment before returning her gaze to him.

"I do just want to run," she explained, "All the time really. It's like this itch I can't get rid of, something I can't quite place. I always want to run, but… I've never wanted to run away. You know?"

"I think I know what you mean. It's like you never want everything to stand still. You want everything to just blur by, catching a glimpse here, a glance there; To be free of the past and present; To never worry about the future or where you'll end up after you stop running. But you don't want to run away from anything. There's no particular reason you want to run, you just want to run. You run because you want to, not because there's something chasing you." Hermione sighed and curled her face into Ron's chest. He smelled like the rain and the earth and the lilac soap his mother bought. She inhaled deeply and smiled.

"That's exactly it," she breathed out and let the crickets envelop the silence that fell between the pair. She didn't know when her eyes began to droop but soon she let sleep carry her away. Ron watched as Hermione drifted from the realm of reality to the land of dreams and fantasy. She glowed in the soft blue light emitted from her wand and the night sky and Ron couldn't bring himself to wake her. Her briefly wondered how much time he had to enjoy this unguarded time with Hermione, how much time he would have left to say what he needed to say to her. He didn't want to die regretting that he never really told her, never really showed her, how he felt. And it wasn't because he was afraid that she didn't feel the same. He saw the look in her eyes whenever he smiled, whenever he laughed, whenever he bickered with her. He knew that she had a smile that was reserved especially for him. There was a place in her heart with a huge banner over it that said, "Reserved for Ronald Bilius Weasley Only. No Trespassing." He loved the feeling. And he never wanted it to end.

He glanced at Hermione and sighed. He feared that it would end all too soon. The war was a pending doom that always seemed to hang over their heads. He didn't want anything that he might have with Hermione to be bittersweet. He didn't want it stolen away from him by Voldemort. It was a fear that plagued him and he thought over and over again that he should just tell her. He should steal all the moments that he had left. And spend them with her. They could very well be his last, and he would face them bravely. But he didn't want to face them alone and he knew that Hermione didn't want to either.

Harry, of course, wouldn't be alone. He had Ginny to stand beside him, and Ron and Hermione. But Ron didn't just want to stand beside Hermione like a friend would. He wanted to stand beside her, holding her hand like a lover would. Supporting her like a lover would. And he did love her. Truly, wholly, deeply; he loved her.

"Hermione," he uttered before he could second guess himself. She stirred in her sleep but didn't wake. "Hermione," he called a little louder. His resolve hardened and he gently shook her from her peaceful sleep. He would do it for her, he told himself, he would muster every once of confidence he owned, just for her. Slowly she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and smiled questioningly at him.

"Yes? What is it?"

"It's nothing you don't already know. I know that you know, I just don't know why I waited so long. I guess it was because I was scared. Scared of how quickly it might end, how quickly I could loose you, how quickly I could loose myself by loosing you. I can't deal with loosing you." Ron rambled in quiet whispers as Hermione tried to wake herself fully to understand him better.

"Ron, what are you on about? I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione yawned.

"I love you and I know you love me too," Ron chuckled nervously and laid down on his back. "I just… I don't know…I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you never knew, never really knew for sure. I love you." He let out a shaky breath and laughed at himself. Soon Hermione joined in the laughter and couldn't stop herself from exhaling in relief.

"Well it's about bloody time!" Hermione exclaimed before wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. "It's about bloody time." She whispered again. Ron smiled as he curled into Hermione and closed his eyes. The lay there in the quiet darkness for what seemed like eternity. Neither uttering more than the whisper of their breath, but neither wanting to break the peace for the world. They, in that moment, had each other and they didn't want to give it up. And not Voldemort, or any death eater could take that from them. Not a force of nature or Merlin, himself, could truly take them away from each other in that moment. Death could not strip them of their profound silence, and strong peace. They were Ron and Hermione, best friends and new found lovers, laying beneath the starlit sky. And they would remain so. No more and no less.


End file.
